If you live on this floating space rock; then you’ve surely experienced overwhelming paralysis of the brain. As in, I don’t know how much more I can take.

The eldest dog’s been injured. Her back gave out again. She got better. But then it snowed and she threw it out again trying to eat snow. And the ex won’t leave me alone. And both jobs are taking a plastic bat to my head this week. And, and…

But this morning she was much better. Tail up and wagging.

But then while driving in toward the Cubicle of Doom, the parking brake light came on. Even though the parking brake was not engaged. Then the anti-lock brakes failure light came on. Why? Who the fuck knows. As far as I could tell, both systems worked. So, why, so, eh, uh…I really, really hate electronics. And you start to get that brain paralysis again.

Eh, whatever. I gave in to recklessness. I gave darkness the finger. Drive on. I’ll get to you later potentially debilitating catastrophic car faults.

Granted, this strategy could have failed. Horribly. Given the slick roads, I might have needed said anti-lock brakes. Or, when I get back to the car maybe both fault lights won’t come back on.

To get to the bottom of this most frustrating of situations we called Jesus at his castle in Hawaii.

The Arcturus Project: What up, bro?

Jesus: How’s it going man? I see they got more phone books again?

TAP: Who told you that?

JC: …

TAP: Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, they have a whole box full. They’re saving them for Super Bowl Sunday for use if their bets don’t pan out. I think I’m doomed.

JC: Yeah whatever, so about the car thing…

TAP: Yeah so with these lights…

JC: Yeah whatever, so about the car thing, or the work thing, or the dog thing, or the deflated football thing, or the comet in the sky, or whatever.

TAP: …

JC: Calm down, you’re fine.

TAP: Okay.

JC: Give darkness the finger. I do it every day. It’s a hoot. Brain paralysis is something you’re doing to yourself.

TAP: Okay.

JC: Oh, and you can’t machine engineer life. Then it wouldn’t be any fun and you’d miss the point. Dogs get sick. Cars break. Lemurs escape from zoos. Shit happens. Get over it. Give darkness the finger and move on.

TAP: Okay.

JC: Okay then.

TAP: …

JC: …

TAP: …

JC: Anything else?

TAP: So what do you actually think about the deflated balls?

JC: I question the league’s wisdom of assigning the blame of cheating when everybody does it.

TAP: Really?

JC: Yeah.

TAP: Aren’t you, like, generally in favor of obeying the rules.

JC: If the rules make sense. I mean, come on, Brad Johnson is apparently a Yugoslavian wine merchant who handed a discarded cigar box full of dinars to emissaries representing the President-for-Life of Equatorial Guinea. Whatever. Everybody messes with the balls. If everybody in the game is cheating, then nobody is cheating.

TAP: I guess.

JC: Yeah.

TAP: …

JC: Oh, one more thing by the way…

TAP: Yeah?

JC: I’d advise having the car looked at if the lights are still on. Like, seriously bro, giving darkness the finger does not include being stupid.